Book series trailer by Medrano Productions
Book series trailer by Medrano Productions
–
– 37 –
Soleil had not a single reference point in this universe-sky… not one! She was good at making sure she had some, which is how she noticed that she had none. She kept her individual sled with the group, but with part of her attention she continued to search for her location.
Soleil mused on Uixtr’s word for their waypoint technology, a transanchor. What words did they combine from her language, and why? ‘Anchor’ has a clear meaning: it holds something in place. A transanchor could be something that holds something in place to a different place, both anchor and transport. This really did look like a totally different place from their usual exit. How would a ship be so big that it had different stars on another side? Behind her, the ship with its doors closed was invisible to sight as usual, and in her glance she marked three star shapes that framed its location from this direction.
The team paced, weaving in a kind of search pattern. Soleil made sure to keep her return flags identified in view. Since she didn’t know what they were searching for, she tried interpreting their pattern. She wasn’t entirely sure they knew, either.
Ah! There was something on her readings. What was it? Soleil tapped her console to alert the mission leader of the detection. He returned a clear message: go find it, and figure it out. A nervous chill washed over her, suspicions of a brewing situation not entirely wrong. The others now monitored her instrument readings.
Faced with an open-ended quandary, the Princess decided to have some fun with this puzzle. Freed from the constraints of flying formation, she did some strategic wheeling and whizzing – justifiable maneuvers with a dash of grace and whimsy. She was chasing blips, after all. When going back to the same coordinates didn’t work, she switched to disorganized logic. Her freeform trajectories encountered two more instances of blips, which they pondered. “Continue combing,” was the order given.
Carefully courting danger, the Princess decided to experiment further. The glove control movements for her sled reminded her of the moves on the page given her by the three Kao-Sidhe. Observing the approximate precision preferred by the vehicle interface, Soleil tried moving with increased gesture arcs and an adjusted speed differential. With her moves, she could enact what to one part of the field was an unnoticeable torque, while in another part creating a visible and calculated rotation, and she could link these gestures smoothly from one to the next. As she followed her readings, the motion reminded her of a giant invisible geochronmechane, the toy of sliding dials that only came apart after seemingly endless flipping, spinning, and switching towards a solution.
Soleil adjusted her base settings a little, just four of the obvious ones that she knew well enough. This would skew the workings into different but still understandable directional sensitivity and scale. Her Vedani teammates made no comment to interrupt her, though she knew they were monitoring her decisions. Soleil knew there was no proof yet for what she was trying, and her included factors would probably fill a chalkboard, if the Vedani had chalkboards. At least there were people nearby if something went wrong.
Her new settings acted stable, so she launched into a chain of movements. The sled field could now read a sizable 75% of her kinetic input, and her movement allowances let her respond more dramatically to the unknowns when they appeared on her readings. The team let her continue unremarked, and their silent, intense focus boosted her concentration. Soleil moved her sled along the edges of the problem. She hoped they were recording on all layers, as she appeared to be tracing something.
The Princess was mapping the shape in her mind as she moved around it. It was a structural, locational convergence point made of sound or vibration, exhibiting edges and angular crossings – like a cluster of intersecting, emitting windowpanes. It was able to hold together in the vacuum, throwing off the disturbances that clashed with the Vedani’s new alliance technology. Parts of the cluster shook with varying degrees of difference, and she noted their frequencies against her own contrastingly reliable and consistent biological movements. Going from this fast part to that slow part, she worked transitions between minor degrees of difference, linking similar resonances along her unified spatial path. She pursued a definition of each glimpsed factor. Directional multiplicities in magnitudes: the Princess tied them together in the moment with her presence of mind, motions, and timing.
Soleil thought it possible that the directionality of each windowpane worked like a signal dish, but she couldn’t divert the attention to study that with a handy detection. Instead, as the order of this thing became clearer, she matched her movements to directionalities, and her rhythms to frequencies – finding what she could link most smoothly with her own body, the sled an extension thereof.
Soleil’s breath slowed, and time seemed to slow with it, as she examined the differences with greater fineness. With her understanding, she glimpsed a path through the panes, like an eye opening directly in the swing of her rhythm. With a burst of urgency, she surged into it – and then, she was somewhere else.
–
– 38 –
Facing conversationally inward, three ships anchored to each other moved together through space like a slowly twirling lily. They were the only gleaming thing in sight.
The actual conversation was occurring aboard the ship displaying greatest authority, an instrument-bearing member of an Imperial Alpha fleet. It would be very, very hard to tell that its identifiers had been altered.
Five people fit snugly in the equipment chamber. Leanders, grizzled, stood silently, contemplating middle management while others drove their bargains. He looked across at the one he called boss, repeatedly surprised by his presence. Not just the unlikelihood of it; the man could turn nearly invisible unless he spoke, and he hadn’t spoken for a while. Sturlusson was looking around the interior of the craft with an ear following the discussion. It wasn’t the newest of Imperial ships – looked like it was made of routine repairs. Nevertheless, it had squeaked over to this rendezvous with a bit of shine left on it.
Leanders was feeling relieved and even lighthearted after a series of simple stash drops. Raev’s one fist was held clutched, like it was holding the strings tying everything together.
–
– 39 –
With the motion of the ship at stable velocity, the redhead in a skirt suit felt like she was sitting still; maybe a few hairs wafting. She looked at the driver to her left. “How long am I trapped in here with you?” she asked with dry amusement.
Derringer smiled serenely. “Until we reach your destination, or something terrible happens.”
Karma’s head rolled back along with a smooth yet sudden acceleration. “I wasn’t aware that this is how you drive.”
Through his mustache and dark curls, he beamed in no particular direction, then swiveled his head to look at Karma from an angle. “Right now is special!”
Her smile bloomed into a grin beneath astonished eyebrows. “I’m thrilled! And… so on.”
Derringer blinked softly, like a unicorn. “Good.”
–
– 40 –
Arcta Hydraia joined the others amongst the fold-down seats of the equipment chamber, remaining in the doorway. She wore loose high-collared jams in uniform grey. She felt a small, painful bond with this ship that saved three lives from a hatching dragon. She looked at the two she brought with her, wearing their Pan-Galactic Imperial uniform. The shorter woman with chestnut skin and deep brown hair pulled back in a ponytail wore a nametag that said R. ARRIBA. Her counterpart, tall, dark-haired, rail-thin and sallow, was labeled T. VADR. Their faces wore the look of stored answers after having talked things over between themselves.
Arriba focused on the guy in the corner who’d been addressing them. He stood feet planted shoulder width, arms across his chest. He had an unusual way of looking like nobody from behind sharp, blank features. “So, we can take our ship, the one we’re used to, with all our things in it?” As Arriba inquired, she waved her hands to indicate everything around them.
His black turtleneck and grey slacks didn’t appear to move a micrometer as he gave a one-inch nod. “Sure.”
Vadr raised his head from where it hung in contemplation. He looked up from beneath his eyebrows. “But now we’re ghosts, right, Trosper?”
“Not really,” said the man explaining. He swung an arm out to indicate the other three with them. “You have some people who care about you.” From her leaning spot inside the doorway, Hydraia curtseyed with gentility. Her shadow of a smile was rueful yet accepting. “You know, if it makes you feel any better, I’m a ghost too. But I guessed it was coming.”
Former Alpha Technician Arriba released a slow puff of breath. “New best friends. I’m glad.” She continued to ponder her answers, chin up. She fiddled with a seatbelt and used it to indicate her and her partner. “And the two of us will be on retainer?”
Trosper nodded again as he answered, “With none of the paperwork.”
A strange light kindled in Arriba’s eyes. “No paperwork?”
Trosper shook his head to the same degree as his nod. “No paperwork. A special bonus for being undead.”
T. Vadr looked at the ship like it wasn’t even floating around him. “Then why do I feel so alive?”
R. Arriba gave him a cagey look. “You might want to have that checked.”
Trosper let a smile grow by an exact inch. “It’s your choice. Choose your company, choose your consequences.”
Both ex-soldiers narrowed their eyes at each other, looked mean, and knocked on metal. “We’ve had a lot of those,” said R. Arriba. “He says, and I say, that this is okay.” Arriba put her fingertips on the ship’s walls, appearing to absorb life force from them, and become one with them. “We’ll just do this.”
Trosper did not nod or anything as he replied, “These are unusual circumstances.” Arriba thought she saw a flash of regret. “We’re unusual people.”
Vadr showed the depths of unrest beneath his eyes. “How lucky,” he said.
Trosper jerked his head down a fraction, sharp then slow. “All kinds of lucky.”
The two actually smiled. “The deal is good.”
–
– 41 –
The mustachioed one brought concealed exterior vehicle weaponry into plain sight. “Ohhhh, are we doing this?” Karma asked, sled-bracing herself in the rider’s seat. “Is this also something you do, one of your hidden qualities…” She flashed the whites of her eyes at him. “…a propensity for space dust?”
Derringer did a little dance in his seat and shook a few sparkles out of his hair. “Cloudbuster’s League.”
Karma swallowed behind a playfully dubious look. “That sounds real.”
Looking like a master, Derringer picked a sweet target, a little lone rock. Its blast radius was already clear. With the most minimal fiddling, he loosed a clean shot. Karma inhaled smoothly with appreciation, her target-seeking eyes relaxed and happy as the beautiful shatter occurred before her direct gaze.
She turned to meet his dear look with a honey smile. “Oh, it’s real,” he said. “I knew the moment I made Cloudbuster’s League. I know I’m not the only one.”
–
–
– 33 –
Fate betides thee in the crisp edge, as you and your friends have called it – where you have so often found and been found by each other – where it’s easy to meet and split – the place that is not nowhere, but near it. I know where that is, and where you go. I am the other one. I am the tide of the storm-brought flood, and your footing will have no purchase. Time betides thee, and the hurry of the moment.
–
– 13TH SEQUENCE –

–
– 34 –
Derringer had known many a season at the Oriya River Aerial Parkway, which is why he was given a ranger position for season closing without any real fuss. People had their own way of doing things in the Pioneerlands. In days of Derringer’s rambunctious youth, he won fleeting local fame for his between-stream tricks. Nothing like what the big stars today were doing, but enough to make people cheer.
There was a handful of people left working here that still knew him. They’d all taken higher up jobs except for Silas, who was still a season ranger. They mainly kept people out of danger zones and cleaned up, attending to the rare emergency. The gravitational engagement of these wondrous natural streams was nearly impossible to escape, regardless of trying.
When people looked up at the span-high, ten-long stretch of suspended branching waterways snaking through the air like crystal ropes studded with gemlike rocks – their faces turned silly. Derringer wore that face now as he watched people readying to bust onto the river together, in season closing style.
There was boarder Elgin Conully and his co-athlete wife Kalana Olpan, with their camera crew. There was no trophy competition on the aerial rivers, but it attracted champions from many sports. Derringer thought he spied his old boss four levels removed: Ravl Pliskin, Plexus founder and inventor, in a kneel-down ovoid.
Among the spectators he saw fashion models, travelers, and the Aristyd locals for whom this was the beginning of the season for silvers. In another month the waters would be chock full of the leather-shelled aquatics. The feasting on silvers would be followed by runs of the soft-skinned goldens and the plated coppers, prized shellskins for fabrication. Derringer continued to observe the people gathered.
He was near enough to discern faces at the starting line, but far enough out that his position wasn’t pressed. There were about thirty people in his shouting radius. Nearest him, a dark smallish man with a stretchy face displayed silly-look fascination. He met Derringer’s eye and opened his arms, clearly loving the event. Derringer tapped his ranger badge and tipped his hat in case he wanted to ask any questions.
After a beat, the man walked over. “This isn’t your first Oriya closing, is it,” he supposed out loud.
“No sir, I’ve seen a few.” Derringer let his silly-wild face show.
“Oh I’m not sir – I’m Gretz.” They shook hands warmly. “And this is my first closing, even though I have family on Aristyd. It’s the natural wonder everyone always asks about.” He pointed with his lips to one of the many eager starters. “My cousin is running it this year.” The two men were conversing right over the starting line pump-up speech.
“Welcome then,” said Derringer. “It’s a thrill no matter where you’re standing. I’m just here to make sure that’s not in the wrong spot.”
“Do you get plenty of your own time up there in the flow?”
“Not afterward, but I’ve gone up plenty during this past week-plus.” Derringer tilted his face to include the highest rivers in his gaze.
“What do people do afterward?” asked the guest named Gretz.
“Besides clean up?” Derringer shrugged. “There’s a ping-pong table in the 3rd Span Lounge.”
“Ping-pong… really?”
Derringer saw that he’d awakened an itch. He decided that he liked Gretz. “If you’re up for an epic match, you can find me there in the wee hours.”
“I’m a wee hours kinda fella. Be warned, I may take you up on that.” Gretz unleashed an impish look.
“Warning heeded.” The musical cue preceded the starting blast. Derringer spread his arms out as a standing area reminder. He half-closed his eyes as the distinctive and familiar twelve-string klaxon sounded, and cheers arose.
–
– 35 –
Inverting clearance is an operational maneuver similar to castling on the chaseboard. It’s often the best move and it happens all the time, an allowed exception. A recurring turning point, a strategic tradition carrying the weight of invisible sanction. Arcta sheltered her confidence within this behavioral blind spot. With a group in tow, Arcta walked as though none could stop her, knowing and not caring how easily the situation could turn, making their way to a dead man’s tomb.
Sturlusson’s verdict had been the worst that anybody anticipated. It was swift, quiet, and ugly. Stillfreezing procedures were costly and awful, reserved for those who would be on view of judgment for generations. What would they get when they broke Raev Sturlusson free? Arcta wouldn’t wait any longer.
The group with Arcta was more nervous, and knew even less. This place gave them the creeps, including Brave & Fearless herself. Don’t want to know any more, don’t want to know any more – the strange litany kept her focused as she followed her thread of information down the hall. They passed through the newest construction zone, and into the newest room.
In the center of a platform in the middle of the room, Raev Sturlusson’s body stood as though he were chained. Intersecting his body were twenty-four spectral plates operating from their opposing pillars. The chains and braces that held him for the freezing process were gone, no longer necessary. Head bowed, his hair hung down either side. Not alive, not dead… unreal and too real. Arcta took half a second to master her own revulsion.
“Break it open.” The edifice was intimidating, as though they too might freeze if they looked for too long. The forty-eight slim pillars stood around the edge, no greater than saplings yet menacingly horrible. The technician with them gibbered in distress.
Hydraia took a Multi-Tool from a companion’s hands, and with a reckless sneer dragged her suit mask over her face. Her voice cut through the mask amplifier. “This is Raev Sturlusson. Break it open.” They’ve never known what they were doing anyway, using this ghoulish thing.
The Multi-Tool’s armlength blade glowed to cutting heat, and Hydraia applied it indiscriminately to the nearest pillar. At this the others took action, pillar after pillar toppling in elegant atrocity. Arcta handed the Multi-Tool back and stepped away. She withdrew her firearm and shot the platform console computers, shot them to slag.
They all stared at the man in the center, dropping or setting down their tools in silence. He teetered, and hands sprang out in the distance around him. He took a step, and stayed standing. He lifted his one hand slowly, palm toward his face, and gathered the sides of his hair behind his head. Arcta Hydraia brought a hairband out of her pocket and stepped around him to tie it back. The surrounding hands lowered and relaxed, and Hydraia faced Sturlusson from one side.
His mouth worked as he accustomed his eyes. Then a word, barely audible. “Cozy… as a frog in the frozen ground.” He shored himself up, and barely wobbled. Members of the group shivered repeatedly. Raev turned to face all the unspoken questions. “Maybe I’ll write some poetry about it.”
Arcta pursed her lips and pointed her chin. “I’ll read it.”
Raev Sturlusson gathered them all in one look and dropped a loose nod. Together they exited.
–
– 36 –
The rookie human sled pilot examined her gloves. The dark, vacuum-to-fit plasleather was thick and flexible with its embedded and overlaid tech circuits. The material itself was a matrix that delivered highest response from the fingertips and palms.
In Soleil’s spaceflight sessions with Vedani teams, she learned the movement orders for their one-person standing sleds, reconnaissance vehicles. The gloves recorded and sent information, and kept the vehicle positioned to its user. Soleil had been told that as a human she lacked at least one communicative interface between the Vedani and their tools. They set those levels for her into a cooperative subroutine. She listened to the drumming sound of the gloves on the handlebar podium.
The Princess hadn’t expected to be included on a mission. She’d attained proficiency but not expertise. Her thinking shifted, wondering if they were now intentionally placing her in a tragic situation.
The intense learning had changed the tone of her captivity, and at this moment that she was keenly aware of being a prisoner. She was willing to go, but she wondered what would happen if she refused. They wouldn’t have brought her into service without a reason, and it wasn’t graduation day.
Uixtr (pronounced “eks-ter”) was the Vedani man who’d been nominated to keep her clearly informed. He was quite familiar from around the environment, enough so that it dawned on the Princess he might also have been in charge of keeping track of her. He projected an air of ambivalent acquaintance, and spoke well in her human language.
“We have ways throughout space, established in certain places, that lead to certain other places. That concept is familiar to you. Our pathways are utilized in various and different manners. Some of our waypoints, to use a familiar word, or transanchors to be more accurate, have been newly established with the help of our current alliance.
But now we’re finding a mysterious vulnerability that threatens the placement of the ship where we now reside. This intrigues us, and it could concern you. It may be coming from… your side.” When Uixtr said that, Soleil thought about where she was now, where she came from, and what she was doing. That opened a deep well of inquiry with invisible depths, into which she avoided staring.
“What is your current alliance?” she asked. As the question left her, Soleil recognized how bold it was. It was her puzzle solving reflex; she had actually been curious from a technical standpoint.
Uixtr blinked at her and curled his lips to smile. “This type of transanchor is created in concert between our technologies, the work of certain dragons, and some unusual little people who can be difficult to define.”
Soleil wondered if Uixtr was hinting at knowledge of her recently gained acquaintanceship, and decided to give-for-give. “Do you mean the Kao-Sidhe?”
Uixtr nodded a dawning acknowledgment. “Yes, theirs is a critical contribution. We don’t know what you may see in this situation. That’s why we’re bringing you.”
With that, it was time. Soleil geared up as in usual exercise, in familiar team configuration including Uixtr. There was an addition of reserve experts, with whom she hadn’t practiced. Together they exited from a different part of the ship, through a gate new to her.
–
–
– 13TH SEQUENCE –

–
– 29 –
I behold thee: a different fish amongst a school of fish, swimming in the void. Behold, you have attained what was once, to you, secret knowledge. This may be enough for thee. How much longer will you play in these safe waters, thee whom I beholdst?
–
– 30 –
Beware thee not, all lies within expectation. ‘Ware the gazes, their points of origin, their aim, crosses, landings. They have their wrong directions. Beware thee inasmuch as a shadow. ‘Ware also the shadows, how cast, how fallen, how long. Shadows under different suns. ‘Ware the meeting of each shadow, yet only as such. I am ‘ware for thine, beware thee not.
–
– 31 –
Beloved, thou survivors of shared trial. Beloved for thy personhood, for thy minds behind eyes which grasp what has been seen. Beloved for thy strength of heart. Beloved thou, in new awareness discovered, beloved for thy part. I honor you, I embrace you, I welcome you, beloved thou to me.
–
– 32 –
I have reasons to believe thee, who tell me what I am not yet sure we need to know. For thou art the experts, and I believe thee with my own expert understanding. Together, we forge what I shall believe of thee. I believe you are the only ones in this darkness. I believe I can light with thee the sparkling ways. I believe you glean the greater of our questions. I believe thee thine conclusions. As we grow finer in knowledge, so shall I continue to believe thee.
–
–
– 24 –
“I am the monarch of the seas, living the dream that I’ve always dreamed…” The cheery tune approached them from around the corner, and they were greeted by a gentleman who appeared very merry to meet them. He was dressed Foshani, in a loose shirt of loud seaweed floral print, linen trousers that went partway down the legs, and rope sandals.
“Greetings! I am Arjun Woollibee, of the firm Woollibee & Woollibee. I am the head abyssal inverse dwelling designer. Around here, they call me First AIDD. Yes – I created my own job title. If you have an injury, then you talk to medical.”
The First AIDD made a courteously staged bow and continued. “We have a little time before the tide current brings us under again. There is no defying the tides here on Foshan. Now, they bear us as we have asked. Soon, they will draw us in as we intend.”
“First orders,” and with that the host promptly ignored the General as he focused on the dragon. “I have looked forward to this meeting for some time, Arkuda. And the setting, in every respect, is stranger and more fantastic than I could even have guessed, though I created it.”
“Arjun.” The dragon, er white scales gleaming gold, lowered er bulk into an almost-kneeling launch stance. In handed-headed-torso-bipedal-winged form, Arkuda held er ornamentally ornate wings like a lifted cape. Formal golden jeweled raiment trailed from shoulders and horns. ‘E pointed er horns at Arjun Woollibee and huffed.
The human stepped forward to the dangerous assembly of horns at chest height. He laid his hands on them and began to murmur a stream of indistinguishable language. His eyes alternately widened and narrowed as though reading, a smile flitting to and from his face. Arkuda’s breath was audible and controlled. This stretched on for minutes, as Woollibee made permutations of alignment contact with Arkuda’s horns. The man stood back, wiping sweat off his brow, then mirrored the dragon’s stance in front of em. They lifted their eyes to look into each other’s.
Then they sat, still facing each other; quietly, for equally as long, eyes opening and closing. A seeking was generally about something, but Claymore couldn’t make a guess as to this case. From where he waited to one side while this took precedence, Draig realized he’d been holding his breath. He recalled a visual memory of a small bird doing something very similar, hopping amongst Arkuda’s horns like they were branches. That hadn’t seemed unusual, but then, that was the only time he’d ever seen it. Do birds seek dragons for their own reasons?
He thought back to his first official meeting with Arkuda, part of the very complex process of becoming General Alisandre. It seemed casual in comparison. He wondered at the difference, then acknowledged there was no reason the meetings should be at all alike.
The General’s reverie ended when they stood. Their host went to him directly. “If you can stand a little vertigo, we can move to the end room further ahead, where we can view the descent.” Claymore nodded with surety.
Woollibee talked as they moved. “In here, gravity works more like a spaceship than a watercraft. Don’t assume you know up or down as we go, or that there is an up or down – it’s easier on the constitution. It takes more training to live here than it does to visit. Just know: your feet are on the ground and will remain so.”
–
– 25 –
The current began to swell, bearing them higher into the air. “Now, the tensile force technology unclasps from its connected water layers.” Instead of a barely perceptible yawing, the building moved in a steady direction: down. It accelerated smoothly in the current’s tow. Claymore guessed that they were moving faster than it felt inside the room.
“Are you normally in charge of this descent?” the General asked the engineer.
“My brother and I transfer the duty between ourselves.” Just before the surface disappeared, it shifted towards the corner of the room. “The structure changes shape in response to the first diagonal shear current. We are now in this conformation.” He placed the heels of his flat hands together in a consummate V.
Woollibee dimmed the lights so they could see something of the ocean through which they were passing. He pointed out a mesopelagic vegetative raft, with signs of cavorting from its resident life forms. “Without shining any lights it’s mostly a series of shadows, but we don’t do that without a reason.” Councillor Arkuda sat erself down on the ground.
“If you appreciate blackness, we can watch the last light disappear.” Draig and Arkuda both nodded. Arjun extinguished the light in their chamber, with the timing of a sliver of moonset. Their eyes sought it, and barely caught the remaining trace as it left like an imagined shimmer.
Arjun Woollibee gently revived the room light. He continued to narrate, doing a sort of interpretive dance while describing the progressive shapes of the structure, as he liked to call it. “We move through the water as the leading edge of an object that becomes denser and more massive. The invisible object has a shape that can withstand the pressures through which we descend.
“After the V, the linear form bows out into the shape of a lucky bowl: smooth, open, drifting down through a full sink. Farther down, the shape becomes flatter, and weighted – like a bag with objects placed inside, or a tea mug. The flatten widens, bulging: a market basket or longboat’s bottom. Then the curve really stretches out, really really big – this is the meteor.” He called each stage through the climes of darkness, keeping time and mental track. They took his word for it that the subtle motions they felt meant what he indicated.
“Inverting. Are you ready? We’re going to see light again. But this time, it comes from below.” Woollibee turned out the room light in time for them to catch another breath of darkness. Glimmer appeared again like a distant moon rising from the edge of the floor. It was more concise than surface light, something to squint at. It rose and grew, centering directly in their field of vision. “These windows respond to light intensity with filtering that keeps us from going blind. It’s worth it to be able to see.”
The light rushed toward them with increasing acceleration. It was a square landing coupling, bright, and bigger than the end of the structure. With immediate gentleness, that was it. Woollibee looked at the other two. “The quicker, the better.”
The glow of the landing socket surrounded them on all planes but the floor and the entrance wall. The light color cycled slowly and seamlessly through the spectrum. “I like to take a self-portrait when we land,” said Woollibee. He punched in sequences on a ten-key pad by the door, and pointed to the wall.
“Here it is – here we are. Welcome to the Arch.” In the snapshot on the wall, it was hard to tell how big it was with nothing nearby for comparison. The straight black bar they entered from the air was now judiciously curved into one of the oldest shapes in human construction: the keystone arch, each of its tall feet planted in a glowing patch of light. Draig traced the outer shape of it in the air with his finger, sighed, and nodded. Arjun smiled at him from one side.
Though er countenance showed little difference, Arkuda was beaming. “It’s a distinct pleasure to be here with you, where sunlight has never reached. Under the mystery.”
–
– 26 –
“We’ll go now from the foot to the peak. But alas,” Woollibee said with a playful tone, “no peeking. You are here as guests of Arctyri’s. What we do here, as well as the Arch’s purpose for existence, is outside of your business. Luckily for you, or it might be another year before you once more took to the air.”
“Whatever you do, it must be fascinating,” said the General.
The builder nodded sharply. “At times.” It was then that the door opened, and they beheld someone with an unmistakable resemblance to their host. “Bux!” The two kin raised their arms at each other. “This is he,” said Arjun as he gestured them out of the room, “my brother and partner in science, Buckminster Woollibee. He is the leading mind behind the tensile force technology you just witnessed, as well as many of the other systems that keep us comfortable and secure.” The researcher was dressed in a buttoned floor length off-white overcoat with a closed-neck collar. The General and the Councillor approached him and made handshake introductions.
“Bux Woollibee, at yours and Arctyri’s service. When I was informed that a seeker would be arriving, I knew it would be worth whatever inconvenience. I sought Arctyri myself long ago, and I know doubtless that without that significant experience, I and my teams couldn’t have accomplished the feats within which we now stand.”
General Claymore began to wonder what the seeking process would impart to him, rather than to them. Other proposed options had seemed poor and ineffective to his preliminary glances; but he hadn’t fully considered himself an actual part of the Viridian Phasing protocol. That it might somehow empower him hadn’t been a goal, but now he perceived it may be a key matter.
“Let us travel,” said the mechanical scientist.
–
– 27 –
The two residents and two visitors stood in the observational bridge of the Arch’s peak room. They looked upon an expanse that faded from view. Displays monitored the structure and the space around it. Brothers Arjun and Bux turned to General Alisandre. “So, what happens next?” Bux Woollibee asked him.
The General looked steadily back at the other two men and the dragon. Disengaging his gaze, he gestured toward the furniture. “Seat yourselves.” They did so unassumingly.
Draig paced slowly. He gazed from each corner, trying to focus on the depths beyond. Turning to his hosts, he asked, “Can we turn off the lights?” Arjun nodded, and without reply made the room go dark.
Now they were lit only by the residual glow from the Arch’s basal sockets, like streetlight seen from upper stories. Draig looked intently at the displays showing gradations of light in the areas below them. He felt a desire to press himself against the outward windows like a child, as though they might let him through. He had never admired empty water so much, or felt so drawn to it. Behind him, the Woollibees wore their own secretive smiles. Arkuda opened and closed er eyes.
Draig was grinding his fist into his palm. “Is it possible to dim the base light?” he asked.
“We can make it go out completely, if you wish,” replied Bux with a gleam in his eye.
“Yes, I want that.”
Arjun rose from where he sat. “I’ll go issue a lights-out, windows-black.” He exited the room, and Draig turned again to the displays. Slowly, the light left. As it disappeared, his limbs seemed to gain weightlessness as his eyes fixed on nothing. “Ah,” said Draig. The others kept silence.
Arjun returned, briefly allowing in a slice of light from the doorway. It was sealed out, and the weightlessness returned once more. Draig could see neither floor nor ceiling, where they ended nor what was beyond. The displays were invisible. He enjoyed this moment padding in the darkness, feeling far from anything. If he tried he could hear breathing, including his own, but for the most part he didn’t try. He chuckled and liked how the sound hung in the air.
Something showed itself out there: a moving finger fish glowing indigo-cobalt. “Life,” said the General, puzzling it out.
“Yes, life,” said a Woollibee; which one, he wasn’t sure. More fingers of light joined the first, as though appearing from a distant current. They flickered, oscillating and migrating.
“Do schools exist down here?”
“Yes,” said one of the brothers. “And things that eat them. And, things that eat them.” The lights approached, flickering.
“Have you noticed how stable it feels in the Arch?” Arjun’s tone as he spoke was candidly jovial. “You can thank Bux for reversing the tensile hold you witnessed on the surface – down here it’s known as torrential slip.” The glowing school arrived at a static space where it shifted around, unwilling to pass the Arch.
“Do you keep a repellant field around the structure?” the General asked.
“No,” replied Bux, “it would interfere.” The curious school came to a still rest and disappeared. Something completely different appeared in its place: a maze of light the size of a city block.
Draig spent several seconds assessing and managing his alarm. He almost jumped to action, but didn’t. The Councillor, the engineer, and the scientist remained silent. This wasn’t an attack situation, yet. The glowing thing turned, as though it had seen something, and continued to turn until the same part of the maze was facing them again.
Then the General noticed two large shadows occluding parts of the glowing pattern. He moved his hands in front of his body, mirroring the way the shadows moved in front of the maze. This felt similar to the delivery of a detailed speech. Noticing, he turned to show the others what he was doing, then remembered it was pitch dark. “You two brothers, do you see it? Have you seen this before?”
“I have never seen… this one. Similar things, much much smaller. Yet, I am not afraid.”
“We have reason to be, judging by the size and power of this denizen. But I’m not afraid, either.”
“I’m very pleased to meet it,” said the Councillor. “It may be expressing the same.” Draig turned to look. The mazy glow dimmed and brightened with a soothing pulse. Claymore decided to try something. Facing out, he shadowed his chest with flat hands then dropped them open to his sides, palms out. Two giant shadows met in the center of the maze and opened back into the unseen.
At this, the mazy lights darkened to invisibility, erasing themselves. Twenty glowing bulbs appeared. Draig looked down at himself and saw his outlines illuminated, as this light was noticeably brighter. The two greater bulbs resolved into a pair of shapes like boltcutters the size of small spacecraft. They threw the most luminescence. Above them close to center, two bouquets of nine comparatively tiny bulbs sprouted, each on its independently moving and lengthening stalk. Below the bouquets appeared feathery mandible appendages, framing a mouth outlined in a proportionally small grin. One, two, then three pairs of glowing parentheses lit successively, widening the teacup grin.
Draig laughed despite the gigantic strangeness.
Below the mouth, an outline of a different color drew itself in the darkness: the edges of its central plates. It roughly resembled a heart with wings. The General couldn’t bring himself to remark; he looked sidelong as though expecting the practical joke to be explained.
The central shape pulsed as a point of light appeared between the eye bouquets, spreading outward to circle its entirety with a simple, galactically elliptical outline. “Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh.” The sound of overawed acceptance flew out of Draig’s throat.
“It’s bigger than… than this!” exclaimed Arjun, flapping his hands in the way that speechless engineers indicate their walls. “There has been nothing of the sort that we have seen.”
“Yet here it is,” his brother said, seeming pleased. “I am glad to see this… one.”
“Are you not?” said the Councillor. “It is an honor.”
“I feel vulnerable,” said the General.
Arkuda replied, “That is also appropriate.”
The creature’s outlines were obscured as flickering wiggles of light covered its entirety, including its propulsory rippling fin skirt. All was lit as though in alarm, rather than in deceptive patches. The mazy lights that had first awed and stunned them grew bright underneath that as well. Draig worried that something bigger was about to arrive.
It did. The torrential slip didn’t waver, as around them particles of ocean floor lifted and motion-froze in upside down tornado shapes. How could the cold down here get colder, how could a current make ice within the ocean –
– and what was that crustacean doing?
Its giant claws opened and shut with musical timing, sending regular shockwaves through the water. Its glowing furriness blinked in alternating patches, also in time. It looked absolutely jolly.
A shape formed beneath the creature, lifting it high above them as it continued to dance, play music, and emit light. What appeared was the form of a head large enough that the creature atop it looked like a hat. The enormous dragon face appeared endlessly pleased.
Draig finally pressed his face against the glass, to be sure he was eliminating the illusion of a layer. Behind him, Arkuda drew breath to speak, but didn’t. Draig knew who that was in front of him. He swayed back and forth as though meeting a childhood hero.
He now recalled his actual first meeting with Councillor Arkuda as a boy of three. It was easy to forget because it was as though he’d known er forever. He had slipped free from his busy Arbiter father in the Council hallways. He roamed passageways in earnest search of something certain, shortly to be stopped by an awesome being. His search over, he allowed the dragon to place him on er shoulders. He held on carefully to Arkuda’s horns as he rode back to his father. That Draig was remembering it now felt elegant and real. He couldn’t quite recall the lesson, only that there must have been one.
Draig then realized that Arctyri was only the second dragon he’d met. He had seen others, but only met Arkuda. Perhaps that was an inaccurate human tendency, to think they knew a dragon after having only seen em.
Under the gaze of this dragon pleased to meet him, Draig sat. He got as close as possible to the barrier separating him from a friendly-seeming abyss. The dragon shimmered as ‘e further materialized. The glowing creature balanced atop the dragon calmed its light display. At this depth, the dragon’s form was especially crystalline and fluid; the light emitted by the friend on er head was distributed via contralucent conduits, enough to display itself in the deep darkness.
From cross-legged, Draig pressed his palms to the window before him, trying to feel the water on the other side. The crustacean scooted toward Arctyri’s back as ‘e angled er horns toward the window. Spiraling in shapes like the icy peaks formed in the current of er arrival, three horns rose in the center toward a triangular peak. Two terminated at the distance between Draig’s palms, the third between and above.
Arctyri’s third extended horn touched the barrier, which appeared to change. Draig placed his forehead against the spot, and he no longer felt anything between him and the water, or him and the dragon. He felt the other two horns connecting with his hands. The window barrier remained, yet it wasn’t between them.
Draig felt the coursing cold, depth deepening, freezing breath, rude harshness… a swift, seamless, ouroboric mobius attracting power by its concentration. The fleetest and most shocking current, harbinger’s whistle, riding ice to clouds that dance beneath nothing but stars. Whole worlds in continuous grasp: Arctyri is there somewhere, bringing food, or death, motion, or change. Draig learned of the being and how ‘e works.
Arctyri met Draig Claymore as well, through small stories he told er in split second word-thought and physical emotives. Arctyri introduced to him others of er acquaintance, including the Davyjones (as his species name was given, this one male and eldest of them) still perched on er somewhere. Seeking and meeting was something dragons would allow with any species, learned Draig, though a dragon attracts its kinds.
The Davyjones crustacean crept over the back of Arctyri’s head and laid his claws next to horns further up. Davyjones, crunches bones, sees yours inside you, gravity guides you to Davyjones who rules the floor. Draig and Eldest Davyjones got to know each other well in that moment. They would recognize each other anywhere.
Arctyri extended two more freezing horns to touch the barrier at either side of the General. Claymore called, “Woollibee and Woollibee, Arctyri asks you to approach and join.” They both went to a point of contact, pressing their hand to it and facing each other.
Arctyri charged them with responsibilities and knowledge according to their roles. Should the dragon be compromised by er part in the Viridian Phasing, they understood what they each could do. ‘E communicated er reasoning and motivations for being a part of it.
In addition, there was a new name being spoken by dragons. Acamar. This was the first time any of Arctyri’s audience heard it, including Arkuda. Arkuda repeated the name reflexively in er voice: Acamar. Arkuda formulated a meaningful phrase for the humans: “where it stops flowing.”
Arkuda was shining softly. The three humans were lit on one side by frost-carried bioluminescence, and on the other by early morning sunlight in a place that never sees it. Quietly, Arctyri withdrew and Arkuda dimmed. With a last look at them, Arctyri loosened er manifestation and soared faintly upward in er current, Eldest Davyjones riding just behind er head, skirt rippling.
–
– 28 –
Upon exiting transport, the three young royalty followed their father to the Verdant Plateau, where children were gathered. Carlo felt nervous, as if he were somehow to blame. They were meeting other kids who were at Pyrean Midsummer, to celebrate that they were better thanks to the Imperium, after the evil criminal had made them all sick with the virus. This was happening on the Verdant Plateau to remind everyone that this was a place of health and prosperity.
In front of Carlo, his older sister and brother didn’t look at each other much, but looked up often toward their father. The walk from the plateau’s edge seemed long, until they reached the opening in the Pergola that awaited them.
The Magus children stood to their father’s left, Carlo the youngest standing farthest out. He stood up straight and tried to smile. The kids he faced looked very serious. He wasn’t sure what they expected of him, so he tried to smile a little more.
King Ascendant Vario addressed the children’s assembly, flanked by teachers and caretakers. He congratulated everyone on the sick population’s total recovery, and proceeded to explain everything: that the disease had come from Hirylien, the many misdeeds of criminal Raev Sturlusson, and how the doctors created the cure from the hidden serum in the man’s arm. The kids looked at each other and back at the royal family through the corners of their eyes. There was one girl whose gaze was fixed on Carlo, and didn’t leave him. He would look away and back to see her still watching him. Her hair was yellow and straight, and she looked only a little bit older.
When the speech was over, the kids lined up to shake hands with the royal children. With handshake after handshake, Carlo grew confused and more nervous. There wasn’t anything in particular, but this wasn’t going the way it was supposed to. There was none of the ecstatic fawning common at other children’s greetings. They peered at him intently. When that girl walked up to him, he almost wanted to run and hide. Panicking, he looked at his father, who was looking right at him. Strangely, Carlo bowed before sticking out his hand. The girl bowed back, and without saying anything, shook his hand in a way that felt like she wasn’t shaking it at all.
–